


Therapy and Coffee

by WarlockWriter



Series: Bonding at Barnes and Noble [1]
Category: The Evil Gene (2015)
Genre: Gen, Griff spends WAY too much time at Barnes and Noble, Sad Ending, Soulmates, Trans Character, Vague mention of a past non-consensual event
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 11:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18387968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlockWriter/pseuds/WarlockWriter
Summary: Griff was in a mental institution for three years. He's supposedly cured of the Evil Gene but he can't go back to being FBI, and he has to figure out what to do with the rest of his life. Maybe entrepreneurship? Then he meets someone and everything changes.Thanks toHixyStixfor the beta.Fills the Soulmate AU and Trans!Character prompts for the Non-Gabe Rich Bingo.





	Therapy and Coffee

Griff stood outside the mental institution where he had spent the last three years. He honestly wasn’t sure what to do next. Dana was in jail for what she had done to him--both the rape and the unethical medical treatments. He had been the recipient of successful gene therapy which had apparently wiped out the Evil Gene in him. He had a clean bill of health and a three million dollar settlement to compensate him for everything that had been done to him.

He was free and financially set for life. He’d never get his job back at the FBI, but, even after everything, he still thought of himself as an agent. Which he’d never be again.

So he had no idea what to do next.

Griff made small steps to establishing a normal life. He got a small, one bedroom apartment in Springfield, Virginia. Even though he couldn’t be FBI anymore, he couldn’t bring himself to leave the D.C. area. The apartment was much too modest for a multi-millionaire, but he didn’t really want to live like that. The money gave him freedom but otherwise meant nothing to him.

All right, not exactly _nothing_. After buying inexpensive, functional furniture, he decided to splurge on a car.

He bought a Tesla because they seemed cool, and he liked the idea of using electricity instead of gas. Of course, he’d neglected to think everything through. His apartment didn’t have a charging station, but nearby Springfield Town Center did.

So his new habit was, a couple of times a week, to drive to the mall, plug in his car and walk across the street to Barnes and Noble, where he bought a book and a fancy coffee and read until his car was charged.

His therapist told him he was drifting and needed to find some purpose in his life. Griff supposed she was right, but he didn’t know what he wanted to do. He didn’t need a job. Volunteering didn’t appeal, and he didn’t know any other options.

So he read, played Sudoku on the iPad Mini he bought himself, another indulgence--that was two now, did that make him irresponsible? He asked his therapist, and she assured him that no, he was being responsible. And he was still drifting and avoiding finding some meaning in his life. Maybe he could start dating?

Yeah, like that was going to happen. Washed up FBI agents who had been in a mental institute and were _probably_ cured of the Evil Gene were definitely not date material.

After nearly a month of his book/coffee/car charging routine, he was browsing the news on his iPad and ran across an article on entrepreneurship. He read it twice. And then once more.

Maybe this was something he could do. He could see himself as a small business owner. Maybe. He had no idea what kind of business he’d start, but surely the first step was learning how to start one.

He Googled “starting a business in Fairfax County” and discovered there was a class the following Tuesday morning in Tysons.

He’d start there and see what happened.

***

Of course, once Tuesday rolled around, Griff thought about backing out. Maybe there wasn’t enough of a charge on his car to get to Tysons? He checked his Tesla app. No, it still had a 200 mile range. More than enough to get him there and back again.

Did he have a suit? He opened his closet, and, yes, there was a serviceable suit that he vaguely remembered buying, more out of habit than any perceived need. He even had a tie.

Sighing, he got everything out, showered, considered shaving, decided against it--he was “retired” and not on a case, so he didn’t need to look too professional--got dressed, neatly knotted his tie, reconsidered the suit and finally just told himself to leave already. It was a free class. He’d probably never see any of the people again anyway.

When he arrived, he realized that the dress code for this event was apparently “whatever the heck you felt like.” Some people were in suits, so he didn’t feel overdressed, but jeans and a t-shirt would have been fine too.

He signed in, received his name tag and a small piece of colored paper.

“What’s this for?” he asked the young man who was attending the sign-in table.

“It’s for the ice breaker exercise,” he said.

Griff sighed, wrote his name--first and last or just first? Just first, he decided--stuffed the colored piece of paper in his breast pocket and entered the room where the class was being held. He hated ice breaker exercises, having needed to endure them through numerous law enforcement seminars.

He pulled his paper out again. Blue. Glancing around the room, he saw a piece of blue paper taped to the wall on the opposite side of the room and supposed that was where he was supposed to go. On his way to the wall, he grabbed some coffee and food--sad looking pastries and some fruit--put his food down at a spot in the very back of the room and obediently went to his assigned ice breaker location.

He sipped the coffee. It was awful and he decided today was a Barnes and Noble day, even though his car still had plenty of charge.

As he forced himself to politely finish the terrible coffee, a woman approached. She was short, dressed in a suit, with a tie--odd but a good look on her--and an actual engraved name tag. “Julian Richards.” Perhaps she was someone in charge?

“Hi,” she said as she approached. “I’m Julian.” She peered at his nametag. “And you’re Griff?”

Griff started to reach out to shake her hand, but she had already diverted to grab a sheaf of paper strips, in the same blue as the paper on the wall and in his pocket. She handed him one. “This is the question we’ll be answering as our part of the icebreaker.”

Griff glanced at the paper in his hand. _What are three ways you can fund your business?_

He looked at Julian. “Aren’t we taking this class because we don’t know the answer to this? I mean, if I knew this, I wouldn’t need the class, right?”

She laughed, and he decided he liked her laugh. “You know. You’re right. You’re also the first person who has asked me that since I’ve been doing this exercise.”

“You’re the person who runs this then?”

She shook her head before tilting it and regarding him. “Will you get me in trouble if I’m honest?”

“No,” he said with a small grin. “I prefer honesty.”

She grinned back at him. “Good. I think I like you, Griff. So, no, I’m just a volunteer who does one of the sections of this event. If I were running it, we wouldn’t be doing this stupid icebreaker.”

Griff was so distracted by “I think I like you” that he almost missed the rest. He knew she wasn’t really flirting with him, but it was nice to pretend for a minute. It had been a long time since anyone had flirted with him. But then he caught up with the rest of what she’d said. “So you don’t like the exercise?”

Three more people were approaching with blue pieces of paper in their hands, so all she did was whisper, “God, no,” before turning to greet the newcomers.

He smiled to himself as he watched her expertly greet everyone, facilitate the exercise, choose a spokesperson--him, naturally, but he went along with it--and finally head to a seat on the other side of the room.

Everyone introduced themselves and gave answers to each group’s questions. Julian was most enthusiastic in asking her group to participate. Griff liked her energy. He gave the three answers his group had come up with: bank funding, crowd funding--he didn’t know what that was but apparently it was a thing--and credit cards.

Then they all settled in for the formal presentations, and Griff had to work hard to stay awake. The first few speakers, two of whom apparently worked for the organization that hosted the event, were so boring and disjointed that Griff couldn’t follow them. Then another woman droned on about zoning and permits. Griff was starting to doubt the wisdom of entrepreneurship and was seriously considering leaving, assuming he could figure out how to sneak out without being rude.

Then Julian walked to the front, started speaking and Griff forgot all about leaving.

She was good! He’d been considered a decent presenter, so he knew how to judge. She commanded the room from her first words. She was funny but obviously knew her stuff. The slides she was presenting from were only okay, but she poked fun at them and made that an integral part of the presentation. She walked back and forth but purposefully, not aimlessly. She engaged with the audience, answered questions, called people out, but in a nice way. Basically, she did everything a speaker was supposed to do to keep an audience interested.

He almost forgot to take notes because he was so entranced by watching her. But he managed to write down a few things, notably that she worked at something called a “Women’s Business Center” but “men, don’t worry, we work with you too.”

He pulled out his phone and looked up the place. And had to stifle a sudden bark of laughter. Julian worked practically next door to his Barnes and Noble.

Maybe it was fate? Even if it wasn’t, he resolved to attend another of her classes at the Center and maybe even schedule the “free one on one counseling” she apparently offered.

***

Griff knew it was probably creepy, but as soon as he got to Barnes and Noble, he called the Center to find out the next class Julian was teaching. The receptionist didn’t seem to find it an odd question and informed him the next one was a business finance and pricing class. It didn’t sound interesting, but he gave his credit card number and registered for two days later in the afternoon.

For the first time since he’d been released, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Having something to look forward to was such a novel feeling that he found himself at a loss.

He had therapy the next day and mentioned it to the therapist.

“I’m glad you have something to look forward to, Griff. What are you looking forward to the most? The class or seeing the instructor again?”

He actually felt his cheeks heat up, which he thought probably answered the question. “Umm. Both, but I guess mostly the instructor.”

She gave him an encouraging smile. “That’s good. I’m happy to see you getting out and meeting with people.”

“The barista at Barnes and Noble knows me,” he protested. “I don’t even have to place an order anymore. He’s already writing it on a cup as soon as he sees me walk up.”

“That’s not what I mean, Griff, and you know it.”

Yes, he did, but he hated it when she pointed out the essential loneliness of his existence. The odd thing was that he didn’t really mind it. He’d had no privacy in the hospital, and he rather liked it now. Most of the time.

Maybe he should get a cat.

“So is she married?”

Griff realized he had no idea. Even before everything in his life had gone to shit, he hadn’t dated much, so he didn’t have the instinct to check wedding rings. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Well, I’m just glad to see you getting excited about something. Entrepreneurship could be a good thing for you. Even if nothing happens with her, you’ve found something to do that isn’t at Barnes and Noble.”

“It’s right across the street from Barnes and Noble, so it kind of is,” he said, feeling good enough to tease his therapist a tiny bit.

She actually rolled her eyes at him, which he counted as a victory.

***

Griff agonized even more about what to wear to Thursday’s class than he had about the Tuesday one. He’d almost asked his therapist for advice about that but had decided it was too pathetic. He didn’t want to wear the suit again. Surely she’d notice and think he only had the one? He wanted her to like him, not feel sorry for him because he only had one suit to his name.

Finally, he decided on jeans and a red t-shirt he particularly liked. He’d be at least a well dressed as several of the people at the class on Tuesday, and he thought it would make him seem...approachable?

Did he want to seem approachable? He’d barely ever dated. Was that what he wanted here? Maybe he just really wanted to start a business, and he thought she’d be a good mentor?

If he was honest with himself, no, that wasn’t it. He thought maybe he wanted more, but he also had to face facts. She was probably married, almost certainly was. Or had some ethical reason to not become involved with clients.

By the time Thursday afternoon rolled around, his stomach was in knots, and he almost backed out. But he knew he’d hate himself if he did that, so he forced himself to go out to his car and drive the familiar route, only he turned right to go to her building instead of left to Barnes and Noble.

As soon as he parked in the Center’s parking lot, he realized he couldn’t go through this without his usual drink, so he quickly walked to Barnes and Noble, got his drink and was back just in time for the start of the class.

He walked into the classroom, iPad in hand, ready to remember to take notes. Julian was talking to another student, but she waved and gave him a smile when he walked in.

Telling himself he should sit in the front, his feet carried him to the back of the room, in the corner. He knew he was being stupid, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d just sit in the back of the room, listen, keep his mouth shut and hope no one noticed him spending more time watching the instructor instead of listening to what she was saying.

Three hours later, he was even more impressed. He’d done RICO work, so he knew his way around forensic accounting. She’d managed to make a complicated, usually boring subject, interesting. He knew it wasn’t just him. Several people in the class commented on how they understood profit and loss statements, cash flow and pricing better than they had expected.

Griff was now convinced that if he was going to start a business, he was in the right place. However, he still needed a business idea.

“Good to see you again,” Julian said as he was making his way out of the room. “Griff, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said.

“You didn’t say much. I hope you got what you came for?”

“I did,” he said. He mentally castigated himself. Nice job. From a one word answer all the way to two. He was on a roll now.

He swallowed hard and decided to go for it. He’d taken down drug dealers. How hard could it be to talk to a nice person? “How do I schedule a counseling session with you? Umm, I’d like to talk more about pricing.” Shit. Now that he said that, he needed to come up with an actual business idea. Maybe he’d go back to Barnes and Noble, mainline more caffeine and pummel his brain into something.

“Just grab my card on the way out the door and email me,” she said. “Happy to meet with you.” She gave him another warm but professional damn it, professional, smile. Griff nodded, thanked her and said he’d send her an email.

Then he fled before he could say anything to embarrass himself. Did he need another session with his therapist before emailing her? No. That was just silly, right?

***

He emailed her the next day, and she scheduled a meeting with him the following Wednesday. Which gave him plenty of time to come up with a business idea. Or worry and tie himself up in knots again. The meeting with Julian was just before his next therapy appointment, which he thought was probably good. He thought he might need the support afterwards.

Julian hadn’t seemed to mind him in jeans last time, so he went for casual again. Blue shirt this time instead of red. Because that seemed important somehow.

He gave himself plenty of time to stop by Barnes and Noble again to get a fortifying coffee, splurging this time for a Venti instead of his usual, sensible Grande. Julian had used Starbucks pricing in her finance class, and he was amused to know how much his drink actually cost to make. Considering how much money he had, he didn’t care, preferring someone else deal with the bother of making it for him.

He walked over to the Center and arrived in the office with about ten minutes to spare. The receptionist greeted him, called back for Julian and told him he could wait in the lobby until she came up.

He sat in one of the lobby chairs, sipped his coffee and tried not to fret.

Julian hurried in a couple of minutes past their appointment time. “Sorry about that. I got tied up on another call.” She put out her hand, and Griff stood up to shake it. Just before he reached her, a tall man with the bearing of former military entered the lobby.

“Julian.”

She dropped her hand, turned and answered his question--something about an upcoming conference--and then turned back to Griff, motioning him in the direction of her office. “Come on back.”

He followed her to a nice corner office with lots of windows. There were two desks, both empty. A computer was booted up on one, and not on the other, and he assumed the one with the running computer was Julian’s. She didn’t have much personalization on her desk, which he wondered about.

“Have a seat by the window,” Julian said.

He did so and noticed her view overlooked his Barnes and Noble.

“So how can I help you today, Mr. Krenshaw?” she asked.

“Griff, please,” he said.

She smiled.

“Uh,” he went on. “I guess I wanted to talk through my idea a little bit. Because I’m not sure how to even begin pricing and everything.”

“Okay, what business were you thinking about starting?”

“A coffee shop and bookstore.” He blushed. “I mean, I know it’s hardly original, but…” He motioned to Barnes and Noble. “I spend a lot of time over there, and I think I could do a good job making one that was welcoming to people and hopefully makes some money.”

They talked through the idea for a while. She pointed out potential problems and pitfalls. He was amused that the biggest pitfall she pointed out was funding, throwing out a number of two to three hundred thousand to get started. That was only about ten percent of what he had available, so he totally had the money. But he appreciated her pointing it out.

They finished up the session, and Griff had several pages of notes. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to give this idea a try, but he appreciated the conversation and the frankness of the discussion. It had been a long time since anyone had taken him seriously and really listened to him. Well, other than his therapist, and he was paying her for that. He knew it was part of Julian’s job to listen, but he felt like she was also doing it because she wanted to, not because she had to.

They both stood up and walked to the door. Julian held out her hand for shaking, and he took it.

Which is when he got the shock of his life.

There was a tangible buzz under his skin when they touched. It felt...good. Like everything would be right with his world if he never let go.

Which is of course when Julian dropped his hand like it was on fire and burning her.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know that would happen.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what _had_ happened. That was what all the stories said a soulmate bond felt like, but he’d never dreamed he’d find his soulmate. Hardly anyone ever did, considering the sheer number of people in the world and no guarantees that your soulmate was even in the same country as you.

“It’s fine,” she was saying.

His gaze suddenly darted to her finger. Gold glinted there. So she was married. That was just his luck. He might have found his soul mate, and she was married.

She followed his gaze and sighed. “Look, I guess we should talk, and I don’t want to have this conversation here. Are you available in a few hours? I get off at five.”

Griff didn’t even have to check the time. It wasn’t like he had any pressing appointments. Or even any appointments, except his therapy, and he had time to do both. He nodded, not trusting his voice.

“Okay. You like the Barnes and Noble over there, right?”

He nodded again, wishing he could find some words.

“All right. I’ll meet you there a few minutes after five then?”

Finally, his throat opened just enough to say, “Sure. See you then.”

And then he fled, not trusting himself to say anything else. She probably thought him a fool, but what did it matter? While he’d known there was nothing to this, it was certain now.

***

Now Griff was so grateful he had a therapy appointment today. Because he needed some serious pep-talking before he’d be able to handle the upcoming meeting.

His therapist must have recognized his agitation because she waved him to his usual seat and asked, “What happened?”

“I think Julian is my soul mate,” he blurted out.

Her eyes widened before her brows drew down in puzzlement. “What makes you think that?”

“We had our session about my business idea, and at the end of it, we shook hands. I felt the buzz under my skin that everyone says means the person is your soulmate.” Even in the midst of his panic, he still remembered the overwhelming peace that had gone through him at that touch. He wanted it again. Even knowing he couldn’t have it didn’t completely erase the ease that touch had brought to his soul.

Her puzzled expression turned into a frown. “But surely you’ve shaken hands before today?”

He ran back their previous encounters, realizing she had to be right. At the first event? No, she’d grabbed those papers instead. He hadn’t stopped to talk to her after the finance class. And then before the counseling session, she’d been about to shake his hand, but her colleague had interrupted them.

Wow. How sad was it that he could remember all those details so clearly?

“No,” he said. “Every time we almost shook, something happened to stop it.”

“Okay,” she said. “Well, what happened after you shook hands?”

He appreciated how she never tried to jump to conclusions but always let him tell things his way. “Uh, she pulled her hand back like she’d been burned. And I finally remembered to look for a wedding ring. Which she totally has. And she said we needed to talk. We’re meeting at Barnes and Noble after she gets off work.”

Her expression softened. “So you think she’s your soulmate, and she’s married.”

He nodded, misery threatening to overcome him. “And I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much. I mean, I never expected to find mine. The odds are so much against it.”

“But you did find her,” she said, her tone soft and understanding. “So of course it’s affected you.”

 _Affected you_. Those two words didn’t even come close to explaining how he felt right now.

“What do I do?” Griff knew she usually guided him to an answer, but right now he just needed someone to tell him what to do. He felt like his entire world had just slipped out from under him, and he had no idea how to get it back. Assuming he’d ever had anything solid under him since he got out of the hospital. Right now he was thinking everything that had happened since he’d gotten out had been a massive trick leading up to this.

“Go meet with her,” his therapist said. “She called the meeting. She wants to talk about something. See what she says and go from there.”

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

“And, Griff?”

He forced himself to pull back from his misery just a bit to listen. “Yes?”

“I don’t have any more sessions after five. Call me when you get out of the meeting? I’m here for you.”

Relief washed through him. Knowing he had some support made it easier. He’d been fearing Julian telling him...who knew what...and then he’d have to go back to his apartment and just deal with it alone.

He really should get a cat, shouldn’t he?

“Thank you. I’m pretty sure I’ll need that.”

She smiled at him. “You can handle this, Griff.”

He was pretty sure she was wrong, but there were some things you just didn’t tell your therapist. So he nodded again.

He couldn’t remember what they talked about for the rest of the session, but that was okay. He had someone to call after the meeting. That was all that mattered.

Because he was sure this was going to end badly.

***

Griff got to Barnes and Noble early, wanting some time in the familiar surroundings to calm him before the meeting. He’d listened to his most soothing playlist on the drive over, and, while his heart was still beating fast, he was pretty sure it didn’t count as “racing” anymore.

He splurged for a fancy drink, something with caramel in it, hoping the sweet would lift his spirits. It didn’t quite work, but it did taste good, and he was able to focus on it rather than how miserable he was feeling.

Julian arrived a few minutes after five. He idly wondered if she’d driven or walked. The distance was totally walkable, but maybe she’d want to be able to make a quick getaway.

She nodded at him on her way by, and her body language was so neutral and controlled that he wasn’t sure how to read it. That didn’t stop him from analyzing it and coming to three different conclusions before she had her drink and sat down.

Had he really been an FBI agent? He thought he’d been better at reading people once.

“Hi,” he managed to say, not at all sure what were the right words on this occasion.

“Hi,” she said back before taking a long sip of her frappuccino thing.

“So, you said we should talk?” he prompted, absurdly proud of how steady his voice was.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m just not quite sure where to start.”

He shrugged. “Start where you want to. I’m listening.”

“Okay,” she said. “So I’m assuming you felt what I did?”

Griff nodded. “Yeah. A buzz under my skin. Pretty much what people say a soulmate bond feels like.” He tried to keep his words neutral, pretty sure talking about how amazing it had felt would be a bad thing,

“That’s what I thought too. I honestly never thought I’d find mine. My husband wasn’t, but we were happy enough.”

His attention immediately pounced on her use of the past tense. “Were happy?”

She sighed. “Yeah. That’s part of what I’d wanted to talk to you about. My husband died about a year ago.”

“I’m sorry,” he said automatically, not sure how to feel about that. One the one hand, he did feel bad for her. On the other hand, she wasn’t married? He immediately felt bad for thinking that.

“Thanks,” she said, her tone as automatic as his. “But that’s only part of what I wanted to tell you.”

“Okay?”

Julian sighed again. “Look, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression here. I know you must have some expectations from finding your soul mate, but I’d pretty much decided I wasn’t going to get into a relationship again. Umm. My husband knew about me, and was understanding, and I just don’t think I’ll find that again.”

“Okay?” he asked again, having no idea what that even meant.

“I identify as a trans male, okay? And you seem like a nice guy and all, and I just don’t want you to get in the middle of my issues. I’m still deciding if I’m going to try to transition, and I want to be able to work that out for myself, without having to deal with someone else’s wishes and expectations.”

Griff wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Trans male? He didn’t think he had a problem with that. He’d honestly never thought much about his sexuality. Even this whole thing with Julian was less about sex and more about wanting to connect with someone. But it was sounding like she--he--didn’t want that?

“Um. All right. So what does that mean, in practical terms?” Oh, God. That sounded so cold, right? Why couldn’t he come up with the right words?

She took a deep breath before saying, “It means that I’m sorry you found your soulmate and that it’s me. I’m in no fit state to be in a relationship right now. Probably never, to be honest. So I wanted to tell you that.”

His world rocked again. It was pretty much what he’d expected but to hear it stated so baldly hurt. Hurt a lot. But he didn’t want to make him feel bad about it, so all he said was, “Okay. I can respect that. Umm. But can I still meet with you about my business idea?” He knew it sounded so fucking lame, but he wanted some reason to see Julian again. Even if only occasionally and in a totally professional setting.

The part of him that was telling him _his soulmate was right there!_ was practically screaming in agony, but he did his best to ignore it. If he didn’t want a relationship, then that was it. Right?

Julian started shaking his head as soon as Griff stopped speaking. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea. We’ll definitely help you, but I’ll refer you to one of my colleagues. He’ll take good care of you. He loves books and coffee shops too. He’s probably better than me anyway.”

Griff’s world rocked again. He wanted to curl up on himself and just cry, but he forced himself to stay cool. No reason to make Julian feel bad too. If that’s what he wanted, then Griff would just have to find a way to make himself accept it.

Even though the deep ache and hollowness inside him threatened to overwhelm him.

“Thank you,” Julian said. “I’m glad you understand.” He stood up, started to put out his hand before drawing it back. Griff was glad. He wouldn’t have been able to resist one more touch, and he was afraid he’d never be able to let go.

“Goodbye, Griff. I hope you find someone else. Someone better.” And with that, he left.

Griff just sat in his chair, his drink cooling in front of him. How could he ever find someone better than his soulmate?

**Author's Note:**

> Note that this is part of a series. I know what's going to happen in Part 2, and if you know how much I love Griff, you know I won't leave him like that forever.


End file.
